


Per minas

by Cirilla9



Category: Arena - Lehanan Aida
Genre: Anal Sex, Ancient Rome, Awkward Blow Jobs, Coercion, First Time, Gladiators, Irrumatio, M/M, Master/Slave, Non-Consensual Bondage, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rape/Non-con Elements, Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-13 15:51:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13573824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cirilla9/pseuds/Cirilla9
Summary: One night in Rome Claudius summons his slave to serve him





	Per minas

**Author's Note:**

> A plotless porn inspired by Lehanan Aida's amazing comic Arena BL. All the characters used here are hers. Go read her comic if you haven't yet, it's wonderful!

A bonfire warmed the night, the flask rounded the circle of men, murmurs and laughs mingled together. The sandy courtyard wasn’t very spacious but stars far above them shone like those from homeland and one could for a moment pretend they were free. Muffled music flowed from the Roman villa and though it was different from national melodies, it soothed troubled minds.

Athal couldn’t exactly point the moment when he’s found himself in the company of other gladiators but now he sat near the fire with all the others and though maybe not exactly being a part of their little society yet, the atmosphere quite engulfed him. He couldn’t honestly complain to this development. The little gathering was nothing compared to feasts in his halls in far Germania once but the mood was merry and the wine was strong.

Someone, Athal didn’t know who and how, got the goatskin of wine and the party started almost on its own. There was too little alcohol to get all the men drunk but it lifted their spirits anyway. And when Berg passed him a flask, nobody protested.

The Gaul was annoying, clinging to him and earnestly trying to start a conversation in Latin but aside from that little inconvenience, for the first time since he was sent to Rome, Athal could say he wasn’t utterly melancholic.

It was surely significantly better than at his previous owner’s residence when he was chained to the wall the whole time and let loose only for a moment, to kill someone in the arena.

\- You just need to get rid of that sour expression, - Berg was saying at his side and went as far as to try to lift up the corner of Athal’s lip.

The Cimbrian swat his hand away in an impatient gesture.

\- Oh, c’mon, don’t be like that. You’ll never make any friends if you’re gonna snap at anyone who nears on you.

\- I don’t need any friends, - said Athal grumbly.

\- Everyone needs a friend, - continued Berg undeterred, not noticing or ignoring the clear dismissal. – At least one. But the best option is to have good relations with everyone in here. We’re all in the same position, we should stick together.

Athal stopped listening to him. Naïve idealist. Instead he let himself imbibe the general, rarely so peaceful atmosphere around him, as Gaul’s words washed over him.

It all expired very quickly as the Roman soldier came up to them. He jabbed Athal in the arm with the wooden part of his spear. The captive from Germania looked up at him warily but it were soldier’s next words that killed his almost good mood in a heartbeat.

\- Cimbrius, get up. Dominus is expecting you.

All easiness drained off Athal’s body, his muscles tensed, a cold sinking feeling embedded in his stomach.

Standing up stiffly, he barely heard catcalls and whistles and sexual comments that aroused among the remaining men. Berg was the only one who wasn’t making fun out of him but Athal didn’t see him anymore.

Weeks ago he would fight. He would stood up to the Roman dogs and rather died in the brawl than let the hedonistic master debase him. That was before Dominus showed him his little sister.

Now the fragile little girl was everything Athal was thinking about, imagining Atje’s face, remembering their short meeting. She said Aroa was also fine so far. Athal hated being at the mercy of the Roman, who represented everything he despised; hated the fact he had to trust his master in taking care of the girls; but for now it was everything he had and he was going to cling to that hope. He would endure anything wicked Dominus was planning to do to him, if it meant keeping his relatives safe.

His hands were cuffed, bound tightly behind his back with a thick rope, before he was led into the spacious room where Dominus was already waiting. The young Roman lounged on the bed, his loose robe slipping off and revealing more than concealing.

The soldier gave Athal a mighty push from behind and the Cimbrian, not prepared and bereft of the help of his hands to maintain balance, fell humiliatingly to his knees before his master. He made to get up but a solid, yet elegant hand upon his shoulder stopped him. It was not a soldier’s palm. It was someone’s who didn’t have to work or fight because his subjects would do everything for him, it was Dominus’.

\- Stay down, - Athal’s master said in a low murmur, - you may as well start on your knees.

Athal looked up with all fury fueled by a burning shame and saw a smug face staring down at him with hunger and a sadistic glint in the eye.

Without looking away from him, Dominus dismissed the soldier, who saluted and walked away, closing the doors to the room.

Athal still glared at Dominus with his blond brows furrowed, hoping to convey all his hate toward this man in that one stare. The Roman just chuckled, moving his hand from Athal’s shoulder to his tightly clenched jaw in a sensual motion, stroking the neck on the way.

\- So angry, - he whispered, - while I was so benevolent toward you.

Dominus’ thumb traced Athal’s lips and the blonde struggled to not to bite the offending digit.

\- Do you remember what I said to you?

Athal kept silent but not from obstinacy alone. There were many things Dominus had said to him in their few interactions and he wasn’t sure which one he was asked. There was rubbish about power hierarchy, there were twisted declarations of a feeling and barely hidden threats against his loved ones.

Furthermore, Athal didn’t want to open his mouth while the Roman’s fingers ghosted upon his lips, lest the scum would push them inside. And he was determined to keep Dominus out of entering any part of his body for as long as it was possible.

\- So silent. Are you still playing at not-knowing Latin or you really don’t want to talk to me that strongly? – Dominus waited a moment but at the prolonging silence, he went on. – It doesn’t matter. You don’t have to speak tonight. You only have to obey me and keep in mind this is the best way of ensuring safety to someone dear to you.

The quiet, almost compassionate tone of the Roman hurt more than crudest blade could wound. The other man had the weapon that gave him complete power over Athal, the soft indication reminded about his own helplessness bitterly.

Thus Athal stayed on his knees when Dominus’ hand retrieved to slip the rich robe off his crotch and reveal the straining cock. Athal eyed the Roman’s tool with barely hidden discomfort. He didn’t know if worse was the consciousness that he excited the Roman like a woman should do or the awareness that he will be used to sate that desire in the nearest future.

\- Open your mouth, - commanded Dominus.

Athal’s eyes went unwillingly glued to the Roman’s cock stroked slowly by his owner’s hand.

 - Go on, - urged the Roman, - since you didn’t want to talk, you can use that pretty mouth in other things.

Running impatient at Athal’s lack of reaction, the Roman reached toward him once more, entangling his fingers in gladiator’s hair. The pressure at the back of his skull propelled Athal’s head forward; the Roman arched his hips at the same time so his cock stopped inches from Athal’s face.

\- Have you done this before? Ah, still no talking from you? But we know that at least it’s been done to you… - to his dismay, Athal felt his cheeks burn at the shameful memory. It only increased Dominus’ mirth. – Try to repeat what you liked about that and be careful to keep your teeth out of the way. Come on, open.

The cock nudged Athal’s mouth and, swallowing his pride, he parted his lips. For the girls, he told himself, closing his eyes. For his sisters’ lives it was a small price.

The Roman thrust in, going slowly but decisively and he didn’t stop till his cock touched the back of Athal’s throat and the Cimbrian gagged. The prick was mercifully drawn back but only a little, not leaving his mouth fully.

Athal inhaled a shaking breath through his nose, remembering the way the Roman had swallowed him wholly on the previous session, wondering if he was expected to do the same now. How could he accept that shaft into his throat as he choked when it only touched his palate?

Dominus pushed in again, interrupting his thoughts. He went minutely further this time, the head of his cock slid through the back wall of Athal’s throat, and didn’t withdrew at all. Athal panicked as his breath passage was blocked and he jerked, trying to wrench his head free but the grip in his hair tightened, keeping him in place.

\- Shh, breathe through your nose.

Athal opened his watering eyes to glance up at the Roman, who was looking at him studiously from the above.

\- Swallow, - the Roman said.

But when Athal did, the cock was pushed deeper into his throat and the gag reflex was back, tightening his throat in quick staccato. He fought more desperately to free himself till he felt Dominus’ hand loosening in his hair, letting him go.

\- I suppose we’d have to do something different for now, - sighed Claudius.

Athal fell backward, bending in half and heaved, catching his breath; his arms tightened and loosened in their bounds. In the corner of his eye, he noticed Dominus standing up and walking toward a little table, picking up something.

When Athal ordered himself enough to straighten up on his knees, he saw his nemesis standing before him, completely naked, with an erect cock glistening from Athal’s saliva. He held a small flask in his hand, smelling the scent. From above the phial, the pair of eyes filled with lust devoured Athal. The stare felt uncomfortably predatory.

\- But you do look cute, panting for breath.

Then the Roman patrician approached him and hauled him upward by his arm, throwing him chest down onto the chaise-longue, revealing his strength from well-formed muscles, usually hidden by soft Roman attire.

Athal tried to raise himself on impulse but a hand between his shoulder blades prevented him from doing so. The material under his breast was smooth, so was the Roman’s thigh forcing itself disturbingly between Athal’s legs, forcing his limbs to spread.

The other Roman’s hand, the one that wasn’t keeping Athal’s back pressed to the bed, shifted the hem of his loincloth, that was gladiator’s only covering, out of the way. The next moment Athal felt a finger slick with some kind of an oil sliding between his buttocks.

\- No, - he said, speaking up for the first time since being brought to his master.

He trashed, struggled to get up but the Roman was disquietingly strong and had all the needed leverage to hold down the other man.

\- Easy, calm down, - crooned Dominus, while his grip was unrelenting.

Athal felt the other man leaning over him, flat chest touching his back and back wringed arms, hot breathe grazing the scruff of his neck. The finger penetrated him and Athal hissed, unable to escape the unwanted advances as the Roman was pressing him down with his whole body. The Cimbrian tried to angle his hips away from the invasive digit but the bed edge restricted his loins’ movements severely.

The bucking was only making it worse, since Dominus didn’t withdrew his finger. Athal stilled his movements but breathed another protest as the forefinger shifted inside him, pushing back and forth.

\- Don’t, - he snapped.

Dominus ignored his objections and kept moving his hand as his nose nuzzled in Athal’s tussled hair.

\- I wanted to have you since I first saw you kill, - confessed the Roman, words murmured to Athal’s ear.

The Cimbrian shuddered as Dominus finger brushed some sensitive place inside of him and to his horror he felt the beginnings of arousal swirling up his spine. The Roman seemed to sense that and repeated the motion. Athal’s cock stirred.

His breath started to come faster. It was humiliating enough the last time, having his cock shot out the seed due to a direct stimulation but Athal would have never expected his body to betray him so to enjoy the other man’s finger in his butt.

When the Roman forced another finger into him, the blessed pain returned for a moment. He didn’t want to enjoy it. He was a king, not a Roman whore. Athal bit his lip to stifle the grunt when the fingers scissored him eagerly.

When they retrieved he exhaled a relieved breath, his asshole already sore, unaccustomed to any sort of touching. The respite was short-lived, however, as he felt Dominus’ cock sliding upon the skin of his inner thigh. Athal’s breath caught at the idea of that thing entering him.

\- I had to buy you then and now I have to have you, my untamed wild beast… ah!- Claudius said and penetrated Athal in one forceful thrust, without even removing the gladiator’s loincloth, just holding the material shifted to the side.

Athal groaned at the unnatural feeling of being split open from behind. His insides throbbed around the shaft in him, trying to expel the foreign object. He arched, his muscles going tense and body shaking from the intrusion.

Dominus kept still, simply pinning Athal down for now and pecking his shoulders in kisses and bites. Athal was fighting back a scream, trembling under Roman’s hands.

\- You’re beautiful… - murmured Claudius among licks of Athal’s sweated skin, – …stunning in your ferocity.

Gradually, very slowly Athal accustomed to the strange sensation and though it still burned and felt awkward, it stopped seeming like being pierced with a sword. The Roman must have sensed that change as he moved his hips, causing Athal’s breath to leave his breast in one huff. The next shoves, deliberately becoming deeper, tore Athal’s exhales into ragged panting.

The Roman started to move more vigorously, pulling Athal’s loincloth more forcefully as his hand clenched on the material. The hem of the cloth dug into Athal’s groin. The Cimbrian writhed under future Roman emperor but there was no escaping the massive cock plowing him relentlessly. He could only clench his fists and grit his teeth as he laid there flat on his stomach, taking Roman’s cock into his ass like an obedient whore.

Then that traitorous spot inside of him was brushed once more and he shivered from the stab of pleasure going straight to his cock, which hardened even more within the restriction of the loincloth. Athal cursed himself inwardly as he felt arousal welling up in his abdomen. It was all this debauched Roman’s fault for making Athal an object of his twisted yearnings. It was the whole Roman Empire’s fault for invading his country in the first place.

The train of invectives toward Romans in his head was stopped as Dominus tore his loins’ covering, sneaked the hand under Athal’s pelvis and took hold of his stiff cock.

Athal groaned and jerked but his master’s grip onto his prick remained sure. As the Roman started to stroke him in time with the thrusts aimed at that place inside of him, Athal lost the last remnants of control over his own body. He moaned and cried out under his master, yielding to the rising waves of arousal simmering in his guts until it shot out of him in white stripes of his release.

Claudius groaned behind him and thrusted his cock in in the last shove and then Athal felt the Roman’s teeth piercing the skin on his shoulder and the degrading heat of the other man’s seed filling his bowels.

Athal’s inhales resembled sobs as he realized the degree of his ignominy.

Before withdrawing from him, cock softened yet still sheathed inside of him, Claudius’ hands turned Athal’s head to the side. Athal knew his face was flushed crimson by how hot his cheeks burned him.

\- You did well, - Dominus told him. – I’m pleased with you.

Athal bared his teeth, about to say something harsh in response because that praise, being complimented for enduring the job of a pleasure slave, was almost worse than the act itself. But before his scattered thoughts formed into adequate Latin words, the Roman was leaning closer yet, until his lips met Athal’s.

The Cimbrian felt the other’s tongue upon his mouth, demanding entrance but he kept his own lips stubbornly closed. Dominus insisted a bit more before letting him go. He was smirking down at Athal but there was steel-hard intention in his eyes, as he said:

\- Next time I’d expect a little more cooperation.

The Roman extracted himself from Athal, leaving coldness where his hot body was touching Athal’s skin and a slick emptiness where his cock has been.

Then Athal’s master called in the soldier and ordered leading Cimbrius back to gladiators’ cells.

The way back should have been easier. It was over for now and the Dominus didn’t summon him frequently. It was in the past already and he got a few weeks of an uneasy peace waiting ahead. Filled with just training, fighting, killing, hoping his sisters were well and an occasional unsettling feeling of being observed when Dominus would be in the mood to come watch the gladiators’ practice.

Yet the walk itself felt strained due to the painful throbbing in his lower parts; the oil mixed with semen sliding down his inner thighs along with the ache in the shoulder where his skin split under Claudius’ teeth reminded pungently about what’s been done to him; the nakedness was making him feel vulnerable.

Roman guard didn’t pay him much attention but the fellow gladiators jeered at his sight and of course they knew, they were all perfectly aware he was but a toy in Dominus’ hands. He walked past them to his own cell, staring ahead with his chin lifted high, trying to ignore ‘pathicus’ and other invectives thrown his way.

Only in the semi privacy of his cell, he allowed himself to sat with his shoulders slumped in defeat and hid his face in his hands, trying very hard not to relive the scenes that occurred in Dominus’ villa.

 

 

 


End file.
